


Pray you now, forget and forgive.

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Age Reversal, Multi, i only have the boys written out tho, more people will be mentioned probably, or whatever, this hasnt been beta-d
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An age reversal AU!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. beginnings

Talia al Ghul was a lot of things. She was beautiful and smart. She was a tactician and a warrior. She was a caretaker and a life ender, a daughter and a mother. Was she cruel? Maybe. But she was not cruel to her son. Damian al Ghul, Damian Wayne. He had been trained from a young age and he was supposed to be Ra’s Al Ghul’s new vessel. Once he reached a good age, that is. Talia was a smart woman, one with decades of youth and wisdom under her belt. Damian was her son and her dedication to her father only ran so far. Later, she might take time to think and come to understand Nyssa better, but for now she was plotting. There were a lot of things she could do, a lot of things that would help her son in the end.

Perhaps she could send him to one of her old trainers and have them hide him? Give him to a maid and pay her to hide? Damian was destined for big things. Damian was an al Ghul, but he was also a Wayne.

Thomas Wayne had married in the last few years. He was a good man, a good doctor. Talia’s fling with him had mainly been a way to try and get into Gotham. Her pregnancy had been accidental, really. He only knew her as Miranda. Damian was a suspicious child. He was rather violent and he had already gone through plenty of training. Not a lot, obviously, he was only 5, but still enough to be dubiously abnormal. However, in the light of their circumstances, leaving him with Thomas and his new wife was the best choice. They could find some way to spin it, probably, or hide him, or something. It would give Damian a more normal life, and he could be a kid. Maybe grow up to do good things, not be a pawn of Ra’s. That’s all that Talia wanted for him.

So, pulling the town car up the driveway, Talia was not regretful. She had expressed to Damian that he was going to live with nice people. Her leaving out that Thomas was his father wasn’t intentional. She just had a lot on her mind. She held the 5 year old in her arms as she waited for someone to open the big Wayne Manor doors to greet her.

Damian had the Wayne features. He looked like a Wayne son. His hair was coal black, blue eyes with a strong jaw and wide face. But he also looked like an al Ghul, darker skin and a pointed nose. He didn’t look a thing like Martha, how they were going to pass him off was beyond Talia. Bastard children were no new idea; maybe they would just present him as all he is.

Of course, the thought of Martha taking over Talia’s spot as Damian’s mother left a bad taste in her mouth and a sting of repulsion. But Martha could give Damian something Talia couldn’t. A normal life, a life without the stain of blood.

The door of the manor creaked open, and Talia was looking at the butler. Alfred. She had met him before, he knew her. He looked surprised to see her, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Damian. Damian had his face buried in Talia’s neck, he knew what was happening. He knew why he was here, why Talia had only brought his bags.

“Miss Miranda, it’s a surprise to see you.” Alfred opened the door wider and stepped aside to let her in. She smiled and nodded. “It was a surprise for me to have to come here,” she paused, and sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “I hope Thomas is home?”

Alfred nodded and closed the door, he gestured towards the hallway before starting to walk, her beside him. “He’s in his office. I’ll take you there.” He said, and then added, “Martha is out right now, unfortunately.” Talia nodded and repeated him. “Unfortunately.” They finished the walk in silence, Alfred knocking lightly on the office door and pushing it open when Thomas replied to the knock.

“Miss Miranda wants to talk, sir.” Thomas’ head shot up at Alfred’s words, his eyes moving quickly to take in Talia and Damian behind Alfred. “Thank you, Alfred. I’d prefer to be left alone with them.” Alfred nodded and waved Talia in, shutting the door behind them.

“Miranda, it’s good to see you. You still look great.” Thomas’ tone was nervous, if a lady you had a fling with shows up with a kid it’s _usually_ not for the best. Talia smiled and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Likewise. I hear Martha is amazing, as well.” Talia made small talk, her fingers tapping lightly on Damian’s side. Thomas shot a smile at Talia. He tilted his head and looked down at his desk, tapping a finger on it.

“What brings you here today?” Thomas glanced at Damian again; he hadn’t seen his face yet. It was still pressed against Talia’s neck and he was clutching her like he was afraid of losing her. It made Thomas more nervous than he already was. Talia swallowed and looked at the floor. “It’s a long story. You wouldn’t want to hear it. He’s yours though. You and Martha are…are better for him than I am. You can give him more.” Her voice broke a little, but Talia pulled herself together and steeled her face and nerves. “I have the papers here with me, and I have his stuff.” She nearly whispered it while she peeled Damian off her. Her voice lowered further and she slid into Arabic. She was talking to Damian. <<”I love you. You are an al Ghul no matter what.”>> Then she set Damian in the seat next to her, so Thomas could see him.

The shock on his face wasn’t hidden. Damian looked like a Wayne. Damian looked like him. This was, with little doubt, his son.

After that, the process went quickly. Damian watched his mother sign papers and watched her hand the butler his bags. She switched from English to Arabic when addressing him, usually depending on what she was saying to him. Martha came home at some point, she and Thomas had a heated discussion that ended with Martha approaching Damian and introducing herself. She was nice. Thomas was nice.

Finally, his mother shook hands with Martha and kissed Thomas on the cheek. She crouched down to Damian’s height and kissed his forehead.

“Damian, I love you. You will understand this when you are older. Maybe you will come to forgive me.” He was confused. Forgive her, for what? He was smart; he had gone through relentless training up until now. He couldn’t comprehend what she was saying, why she was leaving. Thomas put a hand on his shoulder and they watched his mother’s car pull further and further away from the manor.

Now, Damian tends to look back on these moments with rose-tinted glasses. He had seen a tear in his mother’s eye, right? She had seemed sad, right? The details slip away from him a lot, he remembers everyone calling her Miranda. It took some time to understand that. He remembers her saying _I love you_ a lot.

In fact, she probably hadn’t meant to prophecy his future in such a way. _You will understand when you are older_ , she stated. As if a life of high living would somehow allow him to know about the al Ghul’s and what they did and who Ra’s al Ghul was beyond being his grandfather.

It took another two years after that for him to see his mother again.

Damian was a mean child. He was often spiteful or just plain rude. Alfred was always _butt_ -ler, Martha was always Mrs. Martha and never mom or mother or just Martha. Thomas was always Thomas. He liked them; it just took a year for him to warm up to him. The practical abandonment by Talia, or Miranda, as they still called her, made him angry. _You will understand when you are older_ , her words swirled through his head night after night. Sometimes he would lie awake and say those words over and over, trying to make himself understand _now_. Eventually, he dropped the formality with Martha and sometimes when he was especially tired or excited a “dad” would slip out. Alfred was still _butt_ -ler, but it wasn’t meant as an insult now.

Martha’s smiles stopped being exasperated ones and being caring ones. Thomas stopped looking at him with a certain distance in his eyes, and referred to Damian as son. It was…it was nice. They told the media straight, that Thomas had a son before he was married to Martha. They dug for the mother, but Thomas was good at hiding things. Damian entered into school and did well. He already knew two languages, they didn’t know about all the other training he had, but he was clearly ahead of his peers. He was well-spoken for a six year old.

It was his seventh year of life that his world truly collapsed. Well, he was still six, but his birthday was only a few months away.

Damian stayed home often. Gotham was foreign to him and he didn’t enjoy the attention they often got. He stayed home the night Thomas and Martha were killed. _A mugger_ , the police whispered to Alfred, Damian sitting on the steps and staring at his feet. These people, the people he had been left with, the people that were his family now, were dead. It was two years after Talia had driven away from him that he was left without a family again.

He spent many nights staring at the ceiling and whispering _a mugger_ over and over. A mugger? That’s it? Damian was only six and he could have beaten the mugger. He knew he could. He had been trained. His mother and his grandfather were important people. They had trained him. He could have beaten any mugger. Alfred spent a lot of night comforting Damian. There a bond formed. Damian replaced Thomas and Martha and Talia was Alfred.

It was his seventh birthday that Talia showed up again.

A knock at the door shook Damian out of his book. He could hear Alfred’s footsteps coming from the kitchen. Damian was closer to the door. “I’ll get it!” He yelled, and shot up to the door. Alfred didn’t stop coming towards the door, although his pace faltered when Damian opened the door to see Talia standing there.

She smiled, and reached towards Damian. “I heard what happened, _habibi_.” Damian’s eyes widened and his nose flared. Alfred was at Damian’s back quickly. “Miranda.” Her smile fell a little bit, and she looked up at Alfred. “Talia. My name is Talia.” Damian was frozen, staring at her outstretched hand. Two years. Two years and no contact. This was his mother. The woman who left him here. The one who proclaimed him an al Ghul no matter what. He didn’t feel like an al Ghul. He felt like a Wayne.

Alfred maneuvered the two of them into the sitting room, and he served tea. No matter how he felt about Talia, she was Damian’s mother. He wasn’t going to be unbecoming. They sat in silence for a long time.

“Why now?” Damian spoke loudly, probably a little too loud.

Talia’s brow creased, frowning. “I don’t understand. What do you mean why now?”

Damian set his tea down, probably too hard. “Why are you here now?”

She set her own tea down and clasped her hands together in her lap. Her eyes trying to meet with his. “Because, your father has died and I am your mother.”

He met her gaze then. “What do you want?”

She frowned again. “I am your mother. I am here to see how you are. I am here to take you back with me.”

Damian stiffened, his knuckles turning white with how hard he was clenching his hands. “Take me back where?”

Her hands unclasped and she reached for her tea. “Back home.” Damian’s jaw shifted.

“This is home. I don’t want to leave.” Damian reached for his tea as well, his gaze hardening until she looked away. She was hurt, but he was spiteful.

They sat in silence from there. She made small talk, mostly about his grades, how he was doing, how he felt. He answered with as few words as possible. Did he love Talia? Yes. But he was hurt. He remembered her words then. _Maybe you will come to forgive me_ , he didn’t think he would.


	2. it doth amaze me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Robin 1 chapter of this Age Reversal AU

Tim Drake was never all that comfortable with his life. He lived a wealthy life, he went to a good school, and he had everything he could ask for. The problem was, he felt out of place. Always stuck hanging out at parties with kids he wasn’t all that close with and putting on a show for the people his parents worked alongside. Truthfully, he wasn’t that interesting. Smart and quiet, he was pretty distant from the people he considered friends. These were all probably too deep of thoughts for the thirteen year old, but it was what he did.

Being in such a high position of Gotham’s elite, he often heard lots of gossip. It was a ruthless group of people who took pleasure in tearing down the others. By age thirteen he had heard various stories and tales about the Wayne heir. All of them rather bad. People were bitter about a child being left with the fortune that the Wayne’s had occurred, especially a _bastard_ child. Sneered insults and slurs were thrown around between adults who should have known better. As much as they were all gossips who looked to destroy the weak, they were also as two-faced as they came. At eighteen the fabled Wayne heir started showing his face again. First, at larger parties he would arrive and with a bit of stiff charm he swept the elite of their feet. Wayne’s had always been a big deal in Gotham; few families were as benevolent and kind as them.

Damian Wayne was different. He was kind, sort of. He was charming, in a weirdly rude way. His face was not often graced with a smile; he more or less frowned at everyone. Somehow, he balanced this out with his ego. If you were dashingly dastardly you could get by. And that was what Damian Wayne was. Tales of international schools paired with a cocky smirk, a dismissing of someone’s story with a better story, and an often backhanded series of comments defined this man who had swirled back into the Gotham scene after disappearing for ten years.

Tim never talked to him, almost went out of his way to avoid him. Damian was an intimidating figure. Eighteen and filled out like a man, muscles that his suit didn’t hide and piercing blue eyes that nailed you to the ground. Taller than most of the older men already, he was quite the sight. Tim went to a lot of parties with his parents. Damian went to a lot of parties alone. Damian was discreet, but not discreet enough that Tim missed the sweep of his eyes over the crowd of people and the occasional cough-into-the-sleeve-that-was-actually-him-talking-to-someone-in-his-ear. Perhaps it was because Tim was such a people observer, or everyone was just a lot less observant than he was, but it was something he noticed every time.  

A few months after Damian’s return the Batman showed up on the streets. It was a mythical monster that sent waves into the criminal heart of Gotham and sent the small time guys scrambling. At first, the media and everyone else laughed at the notion. Batman? He was just some guy in a suit that got lucky. Right?

And then crime diminished. It was only a little, but in this city, a little is a lot. People started talking about Batman and what he was or what he was like or who he was. He was a mystery for the city that finally, finally, had her own big name hero. A hero that matched the gritty underbelly that so heavily permeated and rippled through the streets of the city that a bruised population called home. Rumors and lies were spread like wildfire through the crime circuit, and eventually onto the news media. Nobody knew anything about the Batman besides how he would stop a crime and call the police. No one could seem to agree on how the crime was stopped, some wailed that Batman hit with lethal force and others claimed he only hit hard enough to make you go down. It was probably all objective, but it doesn’t mean the media didn’t latch on a potentially killer Batman, maybe he isn’t a hero, maybe just some guy who put on a suit and seeks to trick the population!

The world had other heroes; usually they stayed out of Gotham though. Gotham was dirty and hard, the people were unforgiving and cruel. Some suspected that heroes avoided Gotham even more now because of Batman’s reign. Footage of the Batman was usually grainy and bad, captured on whatever cameras Gotham had around or people’s phones. It was enough to gather that he was exceptionally skilled in a variety of things. Batman fought like poetry in motion, his strikes were perfect and he wasn’t sloppy, well, not a lot of the time anyway. Tim had spent a lot of time, probably too much, watching and reading whatever he could on this Batman. An obsession he hid from his parents, mainly because it wasn’t very cool dinner table conversation to say you were going to figure out who Batman is. Or that you already have an idea of whom.

Batman kept to the shadows, he didn’t want to be seen. He did come out in daylight, yes, but even then Gotham is a dark city. This made everything just that much harder on Tim. All the videos were entirely too dark and it was near impossible for Tim to track Batman through the city.

Batman’s suit was a dark grey trench coat with a tall black collar and his mask covered the majority of his face. The ears, Tim assumed they were some sort of ear thing, were tall as well. It was a striking costume, and the collar formed part of the logo that was laid on his chest and connected to the shoulders.

At this point, Tim’s little investigation had gotten much further than him staring at pictures and then going to parties and observing Damian. He needed to see the Bat himself; it was the only way for him to better reassure himself that he was correct. Most of it had all been guesswork. He was almost enchanted by the idea of a hero like Batman, a hero that did something to help people. Most just donated to some charity for the tax benefits and stayed in the better parts of town.

So, he slipped out of his window with his camera and jogged off into the night. There were a lot of ways to approach this situation, he could find someplace and wait, or search out crimes. For now, he decided to sit and wait someplace. Someplace like crime alley. Tugging his cap down further on his head, Tim trudged through Gotham and settled himself into the shadows of a balcony. Now was the fun part. Waiting.

Tim doesn’t remember nodding off, but he does remember the crack of a fist making contact with someone’s face waking him up. Jerking and automatically grabbing for the camera, Tim leaned forward and glanced down at the space below him. It was definitely Batman. There was a fight going on, and it looked like Batman was just trying to pull answers out of the man. Biting his tongue to stop the embarrassing whimper of excitement from escaping, Tim pulled his camera to his face. It wasn’t a good camera, just something he had around from a few years back. It was going to be loud and it was going to need a good shot. He figured he only had one chance to get the money shot, so he waited. This was his best decision of the night, because while he was waiting the crook kicked Batman’s stomach in the middle of the sentence he was biting out. And then it happened. The voice cracked just right and fell out of Batman _into_ _Damian_. Tim nearly bit part of his tongue straight off as he struggled to keep the burst of realization from escaping and alerting either man of his presence. He had to try and calm down, or he was going to miss his chance to take the photo he wanted. It was overwhelming, to have an assumption and then to have it move so quickly from assumption to the correct answer. All the time he spent just listening and watching Damian paid off, no matter how creepy it was, because he could place his voice from a mile away.

He took a second to control himself, and set back to focusing on taking just the right shot. Batman and the crook had tussled some more down there, but it looked like Batman was done with him. He was tying his hands together and was probably going to tie his legs together as well. The crook was knocked out, and when Batman stood and turned to walk away, Tim saw his shot. The sound of the shutter echoed off the walls around them, and Batman froze. Tim pushed himself back against the wall as quietly as he could, and waited to hear the Bat keep moving or come for him. It was nerve-wracking. If he came up here, would Tim call him Batman or Damian? Would Batman kill him for calling him Damian?

Well, at least Tim didn’t think Batman killed. Probably. Hopefully.

Thankfully, Batman walked away. Or, Tim was pretty sure he did. After what felt like an eternity of sitting as still as possible he pulled forward to look down at the alley. It was clear, besides the passed out crook. Police sirens were getting closer, so Tim decided it was time to bail. On the way home Tim rolled the events of the night through his head. He must be some kind of detective genius or something. How had he figured it all out? Was he just incredibly lucky? Well, yeah.

He only had two hours to sleep until school, so he slept for an hour and a half. His parents shot him disapproving looks at his disheveled appearance but didn’t say anything.  A small blessing in what was surely going to be a hellish day.

From then on he made short treks each night and tried to spot Batman as much as possible. His parents hadn’t caught on, or at least don’t mention that they know he leaves so frequently in the middle of the night. It’s a pretty tiring life, he doesn’t sleep much at night, and he is obsessively careful about how he talks with people around him. The blessing of only surviving another month of school and then being let out for summer was what got him through the long school days. His caffeine intake jumped from _some_ to _a lot_ , and he was pretty sure he heard his parents talking about how he’s just a changing boy.

Eventually, he even got himself a newer and better camera. It was quieter and he was less afraid of being heard. Soon, his pictures stopped being just Batman, but also some of the other small time vigilantes. There wasn’t a lot, but they were just as interesting as Batman. Sorta. If anyone found his photo hoard they’d probably think he was weird or creepy or something, but it was just a form of photojournalism. Sorta.

School started again, Tim slept through classes he could breeze by in and spent the nights awake.

It was a chilly October night when Tim’s life changed. He was no longer a thirteen year old kid with big dreams; he was a _fourteen_ year old kid with big dreams. Over the months he had learned how to climb and traverse Gotham’s roofs, which allowed him to access a lot more of areas he often found Batman. Also made avoiding him harder. Occasionally, he would be pulling himself up onto a roof and hear the crunch of feet hitting a roof nearby. He would freeze, and glance around for the culprit. Tim swears up and down that Batman was looking right at him then, it was a stony glare. He was stuck to the wall under that glare, like how he was nailed to the ground under Damian’s gaze. How many times had Batman caught him in the act, a lot, most likely.  Almost embarrassing the amount of times Tim has frozen and stared at Batman, unsure if he was looking at Tim or around Tim.

Tonight was different.

October was too early for snow in Gotham, even if they got any it would usually melt, but it was still chilly out. Tim was struggling in the cold, in the summer he could sit in one spot and be fine for hours. In the cold he had to move around, he was constantly underestimating the amount of clothing he would need on his night adventures. The night of October 2nd was definitely too early for snow, but just right for a night that was leaving Tim shivering. He was sort of a Batman expert now, he figured, since he had been following him for so long. Noticing patterns and behaviors became easier, like how Batman was more brutal now than he was when he began. It was almost repulsive to watch and listen to, Tim would turn his head and close his eyes at the _snap_ of a broken arm or nose or leg. For a span of time Tim even stopped searching for Batman, only because he needed some time to process some of what he’d seen.

October 2nd saw Tim on the roof of a short building looking down on an alley. Whoever Batman was fighting wasn’t putting up much of a fight, but that didn’t stop the walloping they were receiving. After a few minutes of devastatingly on point punches, the person was clearly not awake. Up until this exact moment, Tim was certain Batman didn’t kill. Up until he saw the limpness of the person in the grip of a black glove did he feel certain that Batman was a hero. The roof of the building was close enough for Tim to hear each continued punch hit, and he heard the squawk of someone shouting at Batman through a radio. It had been faint, but there. Maybe this was something new, something he hadn’t done before.

Tim wasn’t sure what he was doing when he heaved himself into a standing position, or what he was doing when he lifted the camera above his head. He just needed to end this. This wasn’t what the Batman he had constructed in his head would do. Batman wouldn’t kill. It just—it wasn’t right!

The camera met Batman’s head with a solid _thwock_. That was a good camera, too.

His heart nearly jumped out of his throat when Batman’s head snapped up to spot him. This was like every nightmare Tim had ever had that caused him to jump awake in the middle of his literature class. Scrambling, Tim turned to start running across the roof. At least he had given the person a chance of life, right? Who knows what crimes they had committed; Tim didn’t even know what was happening. Batman’s footfalls were heavier than Tim’s and he was catching up fast. This was terrible. Was Batman going to kill him now?

Like every cliché in any movie or book, Tim tripped. Hitting the rooftop hard with his forearms, he felt the sharp sting of skinning himself. Before he had time to collect himself, Batman had a boot pressed against his upper back, pushing him down. Tim was panting and struggling against the foot. He picked up the quiet whispers of whatever radio Damian had on him that someone was talking to him through. The boot pressed a little harder and Tim turned his head enough to see the snarl that Damian’s lips were curled into. This really was a nightmare.

What was he to do now? Stay silent, or play his cards? He was scrambling for some sort of plan, would revealing that he knew who Batman was make Damian let him up? It was the only thing he had left to do, so.

“Damian.” Tim released the name in a gush of air, mentally kicking himself for the lack of tack he had used.

It worked, sorta. Damian jerked away and allowed Tim to push himself up into sitting position. Until he then grabbed his shirt with both hands and lifted him up to his eye level.

“Who are you?” His gruff voice felt like a ton of bricks against Tim’s skull. Is this what criminals felt like?

“Tim Drake,” the answering laugh made Tim’s eyes narrow. “I’ve been following you—“

“I know. You’re not very discreet.” Damian’s jaw clenched and he returned the snarl back to his face. “Why do you think I’m Damian Wayne?” Tim rolled his eyes and looked at the sky.

“I’m a smart kid. I don’t _think_ you’re Damian. I _know_ you’re Damian.” He stopped, waiting to see if he’d be interrupted. Damian was simply looking at him. “You, Damian, returned to Gotham and then Batman shows up. You come to parties and try and hid the bruises on you. Your voice slipped once while you were fighting. I’ve been following you, your mannerisms are consistent. Also, who said anything about Damian Wayne, I mean, you were right. I was saying that Damian, but I could have been meaning any Damian.”

This time, Damian rolled his own eyes. Or, Tim is pretty sure he did. Kind of hard to tell with the mask.

Before Damian could say anything, Tim rushed on.

“Batman shouldn’t kill. He should be a hero, not a killer. You were killing that guy. That’s not normal for you.” Damian made a growling noise deep in his throat and shook Tim a little.

“What do you know about that, you brat? You’re just some kid following me around.” Damian dropped him then, his fingers reaching his ear and listened to something. He was probably rolling his eyes again.

“I know that you’re Damian Wayne and that you have been getting more and more violent and that you needed someone to reel you back!” Tim snapped, his finger coming up to point accusingly at Damian. Damian stepped away and started pacing. “No, he’s not.” It was a short and there was a large amount of emphasis on _he’s not_. Tim was confused as to what Damian was talking about, before he realized he must be talking to whoever was on the comm he had. Eventually, after a large amount of _no_ ’s from Damian, he finally heaved a large sigh and plucked Tim up. “We’re going to the cave.” It was a statement, although Tim was already really pushing it in terms of how late he was staying out. If he didn’t get back soon he wouldn’t have enough time to sleep before school. Even a small nap improves his day.

Damian pulled out a grappling hook and shot it, propelling them through the city. After several readjustments to keep Tim from falling off of Damian, including multiple rants from Damian about how vacuous this all was to whoever was on the end of the comm, they made it into a cave. The news always mentioned a cave, the batcave, when talking about Batman. To see that it was real and…sorta weird was something else. Various vehicles were set around the cave and there was memorabilia up along the walls and set in cases. As they entered the chair set in front of a large group of computers swiveled around to face them. In it sat an older looking man in a suit who seemed rather annoyed.

“This was a bad idea, Pennyworth.” Damian moved forward and past Pennyworth, typing stuff on the computer. The man stood up and beckoned Tim forward. He shook his hand and smiled. “I apologize for Master Damian’s attitude—“ Damian ripped both his gloves off and tossed them on the floor, taking a step away from the computer and doing that same growling noise from before. “ _Pennyworth_.”

Tim puffed his chest out a little, and sent Damian a look. “I already know no point in still calling yourself Batman when in here.” Damian sent a glare back at Tim, and finally turned back to the computer. He moved the chair back around and sat heavily in it.

“Let’s go up into the manor and discuss some things, yes?” Alfred gestured towards a pair of stairs leading up before heading up them. Tim went ahead and followed.

Another short trek out of a clock and into the kitchen of Wayne Manor was quiet. Tim was mainly drinking in the sights of the place. It was clean and orderly with tons of art and pictures on the walls. Statues and flowers were in various nooks and crannies. This was the type of house Tim expected, but it was still a sight to see for him. Sitting at a kitchen island, the man set a glass of water down in front of Tim.

“As I was saying before we were interrupted, I apologize for Master Damian’s attitude. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the butler for the Wayne’s.” He spoke gently, like he was trying to sooth Tim. It—it was actually helping. Tim hadn’t taken the time to really think about it, but here he was. Completely right about who Batman was and had hit him with his very expensive camera to stop him from possibly killing someone. What a whirlwind of a night.

Tim laughed. He laughed and set his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I was right. I can’t believe I did what I did. Whoa.” Alfred only quirked an eyebrow and let Tim calm down again. That’s also when Tim remembered his manners. “I’m Tim Drake, I didn’t really need to be led into here and stuff.” He gestured around him to the kitchen and to the manor at whole. Alfred simply smiled and patted Tim’s arm.

“Nonsense. Master Damian is having a rough time; he needed someone to shake him up again. He still has trouble controlling himself sometimes.” Alfred was back into that soothing tone, although it was interrupted by Damian stomping into the kitchen. Sending a glare towards Tim, he tugged open the fridge and poured himself a glass of milk. There was silence after that, Tim looking between Alfred and Damian who were staring at each other. After an awkwardly long time of nothing, Damian sighed and slumped his shoulders, looking into his glass. “Sorry, Pennyworth. I was worked up.” Alfred reached over and patted Damian’s shoulder. “It’s OK. We will move past it.” Damian sighed again and leaned into the touch. It felt too personal for Tim to be here, too much like he was watching a family. It made him feel awkward.

Damian turned and leaned on the island counter, resting his head on it. Neither Alfred nor Damian was offering up any conversation starters. This was getting more and more awkward by the minute. So, with every ounce of courage Tim had in his body, he blurted the thing he had been thinking since Damian had picked up off the ground to come to the cave.

“I should be your sidekick.”

Damian groaned, and lifted his head enough to shake it. “That’s not a good idea.” Alfred remained silent, looking at Damian.

“Well, clearly you need someone who can pull you away when you’re getting too…you know, murderous.” Tim was talking quieter now, staring at the counter.

Damian huffed, reigning himself in. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Sorry, come back when you’re eighteen and have more training.”

“You started when you were fourteen.” Alfred interjected, Damian stood up straighter and glanced at Alfred. “And I came back when I was eighteen and had more training.” Alfred frowned at him.

“You could train me.” Tim said, a little hopefully. He felt like this was in his grasp. This had to be the ultimate dream come true. With how fanboyish he was of the various vigilantes in Gotham, the chance to be one of them was making him a little delirious with excitement.

Damian sighed, his eyes sliding back over to Alfred. “Is it worth it, Pennyworth?” Alfred tapped his finger on the counter, and looked at Tim for a long time. “I think it is.”

It was almost another full year of training and tests until Damian let Tim onto the streets. He took up the codename Robin and tried to balance out Damian’s moodiness. It didn’t help that Tim was prone to his own outbursts at Damian whenever he felt that he was doing something wrong or acting badly. It was a volatile pairing, but it worked. Somehow. Both of them were good at the whole vigilante thing. Damian did everything well, but Tim liked to think his computer skills were better. It didn’t even take a full year of being Robin for his family to be impacted. His mother dead, his father in a coma. Tim nearly lost it after that, and Damian’s distance and reluctance to do anything didn’t help. Their fights got worse after that, Damian always pulling the elder card or the boss card or the _I’m Batman_ card. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Tim might have quit then. Alfred was a rock for him during these times, even after Jack Drake woke up and began doing things again. Tim had to slide back into making excuses for his absences and why he was always hanging out with a dude five years older than him. Tim joined the Teen Titans near the end of his second year and found solace in the friendships he formed there.

And, as reluctant as both of them were to admit it, Damian and Tim were close. Every training session and every close call forged them together as brothers in arms. But, inevitably, Tim could only handle so much. Tim quit eventually, after a fight with Damian about how much force is lethal force and how much was a good amount of force. They had that fight a lot. It went the same mostly, Damian and Tim starting the fighting quietly, until they were nearly shouting at one another. Usually, Tim would just storm out, either into the manor or out into Gotham to get some frustration out. This time, however, was different.

“You’re not the end all of moral decisions, Drake. I am fully capable of deciding when I’m using too much force.” Damian was lowering his voice, trying to make Tim feel like the irrational one here. He wasn’t. He was also over Damian using that same excuse. Tim knew a lot about Damian, a lot about his life. A lot about his heritage. A lot about his training. He was reaching low into despicable come back territory, but Tim was over this. Over this constant fight about the same thing. Over being ignored and overridden.

“You’d think that with all your issues with your mother you’d try and not act like her.” Tim snapped it, peeled off his mask and tossed it at Damian, who was surely preparing a blistering insult to toss at Tim. And, Tim probably deserved it after that, but he wasn’t giving Damian the last word. “Also? Find a new handler. I’m quitting.” He turned then, heading up into the manor. He would change into street clothes up there, give Alfred a hug and remind him he has Tim’s number. Damian was still standing there, fumbling with what to say or do next. Eventually resigning to acceptance, no loss to him, right?

Tim would change his alter ego then, from Robin to Red Robin. He worked largely with the Titans still, Donna and Kara being his right and left hand guys, or girls, whatever. Eventually when Batgirl made her impact felt he ended up within her social circle as well, and avoided the big Bat like his life depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blech! idk how i feel about this chapter... never been entirely comfortable writing tim (or damian) (or alfred) whatever// YES i swear i will add the females into this story at some point, but this is like, universe wide age reversal bc i thought THAT would be fun, also, kara gets to be in the titans coz i wanted her to be and also coz i like my teen titans with a bit of kryptonian flare. donna is the middle sibling btw so she just gets first gen titan privileges still haha UMMM sorry about this universe being so ~unfamiliar~ or what not, this au required lots of changes and idk, not sure if im alright with some of the changes i made but whats done is done soo

**Author's Note:**

> haha, yeaaa... i have their ages mapped and a timeline worked out, this is mainly just a ~prologue thing haha. since this is such a ... disruptive au i've had to work some stuff differently and blah blah blah. we wont be in the ~Modern~ time for a few chapters but when we get there the ages are damian: 30 tim: 25 jason: 21 dick: 13 and then bruce comes later!! the older three are kinda squished together but w/e. looking for feedback and for anyone who wants to beta (coz i suck)


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